Rewrite
by Pokemon67
Summary: *Tales From The Shadow Hunter's Academy fic.* This was ridiculous. Angels wanted more Shadowhunters to protect the world? Then why the hell were they burning one of the most courageous souls in the world? Someone who endured all the training and all the work- why the hell were they striking him down? Or, in which a certain character DOESN'T DIE.


**Me: Just finished ****_Tales From the Shadowhunter Academy._**** All in all, an ****_amazing_**** book! Really, the amount of time I spent squealing in unable to repress joy because ****_oh my gosh the people the conversations. _****As you might have guessed, there is ****_one tiny _****part I disagree with, so here is my attempt to fix it. I am usually a canon oriented person, and if something happens I hate or makes me cry for hours on end, I usually make some up with a story that changes it whilst still keeping the original canon plot line. Not here, folks. It is pure rewrite and denial time. If you clicked this story, I am sure you agree. **

**I hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I am not Cassandra Clare, who I previously thought was such an amazing person but now am wondering if she just likes killing people off unnecessarily (I could ****_sort of _****understand Max, but George? Really? There was no point!)**

….

_Pokemon67 is sorry for any grammatical errors. Please understand she is having a hard time right now, as she is sure you are, since you are reading this story._

_…__._

Time slowed down. Simon's heart stopped with horror as he watched the circle of flames of which George was in the center of. George, his roommate. George, who followed him into the levels of the dregs. George, his brother.

Caterina was still holding him. Her words ran in his ears, tinning like an echo against the flames licking the boy on the floor. _'Sometimes there is no point. There is only what is.'_

Ice ran in his veins. Maybe that was true- no, it _was_ true. But not now. Not now that he was supposed to be a hero, supposed to be a Shadowhunter. And this is how it was to start? With a pointless death?

Simon's face felt hot, but it wasn't from the flames. _''Don't you fucking dare!'' _He screamed at the top of his lungs.

The spectacle and the hissing fire in front of them all kept most people from hearing. Simon didn't care who heard. This was ridiculous. Angels wanted more Shadowhunters to protect the world? Then why the hell were they burning one of the most courageous souls in the world? Someone who endured all the training and all the work- why the hell were they striking him down?

They dare declare George Lovelace _unworthy?_

Simon's returned memories were still spinning in his mind. Luke's farm house, a lake, a dangerous spell, a huge figure looming down at him, threatening him, barely escaping…

''Don't you dare kill him,'' Simon said aloud. Caterina gripped his arms tighter, aware he was speaking but he doubted she could hear the words. ''He has done nothing wrong. He wants nothing more than to serve the world and the cause you issued out. Don't you dare kill him.''

The sounds of screaming and fire grew louder.

_He is not worthy, _said a voice. Simon was already trembling from the spectacle in front of him, but the voice made every single nerve in his body tremble. _He is not fit to be Nephilim._

_Where was this logic when Valentine was around? _Simon thought back in furry. _When Sebastian was raising an army? _The voice did not respond. _You Angels think you are so great. Now I know where Shadowhunters get it from. _

Again, no response.

_He dies, I will never forget it. I will never forgive. You want me to go out there and kill demons? If you kill George, reject George, then my God I want no part of your mission._

The voice did not speak, but Simon could've sworn he could sense the Angel bristle.

_You chose me. You accepted me, _Simon thought, desperately going for a different tactic. _George is worthy. He is deserving. Please._

_You dare think you can decide this?_

Simon knew he wasn't an angel. He was by no means in expert in an religious or philosophical matters. But the scene in front of him: George being struck down for _trying_…

_He's my brother, _was his reply. _You can't. Please._

No response was giving as George's screams grew louder.

Simon sagged against Caterina. This couldn't be real. This could not be happening.

And then-

_Let brotherly love continue._

It was over in a second. The fire vanished and hissed out as though someone turned off a faucet. George collapsed to the floor, his hands breaking his fall and the sound echoing out of the silent Hall. His back was to Simon, his clothes smoking, but miraculously not burnt. For a moment, nobody moved. Nobody spoke.

Simon made to wrench out of Caterina's grasp, but he needn't have; she pushed him forward, herself still standing stock still as Simon ran back up to the circle.

He got there before the Counsel Pennhallow did, moving past the seemingly stunned Silent Brothers and getting to his knees in front of George so fast his sneakers squeaked on the floor. He grabbed his shoulder, not even processing the heat radiating off of him. ''George? George, look at me.''

Slowly, his hands still balancing himself on the floor, and panting for breath, George did manage to look at him. His hair fell in his face, his flushed from heat but otherwise unmarked, face. He stared at Simon and slowly Simon felt his heart begin beating again.

George licked his lips and glanced over his shoulder at the room. ''Well,'' he mumbled. ''I reckon I made it.'' Simon felt tears in his eyes. George glanced at their classmates at the other end of the room. ''You were right, Beatriz: Just like ketchup.''

Beatriz made a strangled cry that was some cross between a laugh and a sob. She clamped her hand over her mouth as she turned to Julie, who simple grabbed her _parabati's_ hand and rushed at them. Marisol got there first, leaving Jon to lean against a pillar in an attempt to keep himself from falling over as he cried in relief. The girls descended on them, and for a moment there was nothing but hysterical crying and laughter as they all hugged, slapped, and kissed George.

Simon fell back on the floor, bringing his knees to his chest. He allowed himself a moment to close his eyes and collect himself. _Thank you._

He didn't expect the voice to respond, but it did. _This is the last favor I will extend you, Simon Lewis, _Raziel's angry voice rang in his ears. _Do not forget it._

Simon should have felt afraid. But as he looked up at the people in front of him, the people he had trained with for two years, and knew in the audience sat Clary and Isabelle and Jace and Alec and Magnus, he felt not fear, but safety. He was safe because here in this room was his family.

His reply to Raziel was half a laugh._ Actually, it's Simon Lovelace now._

**Me: If you enjoyed and/or were comforted by this, please leave a review!**

**Happy Writing! (with no pointless killing off of characters please).**


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